


anonymous and sweet

by clachnaben



Category: A Charm of Magpies Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: Cornwall, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21682933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clachnaben/pseuds/clachnaben
Summary: It was a glorious day, the sun hot and bright and the breeze spritely, enough to move skirts and sails but with no threat of storm; a good fisherman's wind.
Relationships: Jonah Pastern/Ben Spenser
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	anonymous and sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/gifts).

Bethany was married in the spring. It was a glorious day, the sun hot and bright and the breeze spritely, enough to move skirts and sails but with no threat of storm; a good fisherman's wind. 

Ben had argued with Bethany and Dora about it, because it should have been Dora, but it didn't fit with Dora's stolid perception of what was right and it was what Bethany wanted: Ben gave her away. He didn't have a good suit, but Dora had been mending furiously for months, so he had a fine clean shirt, cut down from one of Linney's spares, and good trousers. Jonah wore the same, but nothing could hide the white lightening streak in his hair, or the irrepressible smile. His Jonah, in workman's clothes that he had actually worked in. Would wonders never cease. 

The vicar only came down to Pellore on special occasions and requests, and Ben had never seen him before but he greeted Dora as Mrs. Kinney and said the words over Bethany and Aaron, and led them in a few hymns. He stood next to Jonah on the bride's family side and they sung together and at the end, they all walked up from the little church to the inn, Bethany and Aaron leading the procession both in their Sunday best. Even Dora seemed lighter, and Ben could see the younger woman she was, under the worries. The inside of the inn was too small to fit nearly the whole village, so a makeshift fete had been set up on the green grass outside it. Ben had nailed together the rough benches and tables with his own bare hands, and Jonah and Aggie had decorated them, with garlands of collected flowers and old cloth repurposed into bunting. He supposed to some it may have looked haphazard, and maybe a little poor, but he could see the work of all of Bethany's family, pulling together to set her off into the world with all their love behind her. 

They were all run ragged, carrying food out from inside the inn. It seemed like every woman in the village had made something, all carefully wrapped in paper or cloth, pies and pasties, buns and breads, all of it heavy to carry. Jonah didn’t struggle under the weight, happily lugging pies bigger than his head out to the wedding party, Ben and Agnes and Dora stumbling along behind.

Finally, the flow of food stuttered to a stop and Ben collapsed onto one of the benches, bracing his elbows on the rough table, protected by a sheet used as a hasty table-cloth. A few of the men had brought out fiddles and tin-whistles, and the Spring afternoon air, still warm, was full of the sound of music. Some of the more enterprising young people had cleared a space in the grass for dancing, and Bethany and Aaron, no longer restrained from each other, were leading, both of them smiling. Ben didn’t know if he had the energy to dance. 

Jonah dropped down across from him, grinning. Sometimes it was like he fed on the energy around him, and he was always pleased to be in a crowd of happy people. 

“No dancing?” Jonah asking, looking at Ben’s face. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for his hand, but didn’t. Ben smiled. 

“I’m half run off my feet Jay. Maybe once I catch my breath,” he said. Jonah's smile was bright.

"Maybe I'll ask Dora," he said. "Do you think she'll let me have a spin?" 

Ben turned to look at Dora. She was watching Bethany and Aaron with a small, even smile, but Ben could easily see the arch look that would arrive if Jonah proposed a dance. 

“I don’t think I’d chance it,” he said. Jonah’s face was playful. 

“Stick in the mud,” he said.

“We can go dancing tomorrow, out by the cliffs, if the weather’s still good,” Ben suggested. They went whenever they could find the time, sometimes together to kiss and run through the air, and sometimes with Aggie to look for blackberries and nettles. Jonah’s face twisted a little ruefully. 

“Tonkin asked me to have a look at his roof,” he said. "Apparently it leaked this winter, and I said I'd look if Mrs. Tonkin baked those cakes of hers for the wedding."

Ben paused. He hadn’t known that. 

“You didn’t say,” Ben said placidly. Jonah looked nearly embarrased and ducked his head. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise for Bethany,” he said, and Ben’s heart hurt. Jay could be so sweet, always unexpectedly. At one of the other tables, Bethany was sharing one of the hevva cakes with Aaron, both of them smiling. Mrs. Tonkin’s hevva cakes were the best in the village. 

"That was sweet Jay," Ben said, and Jonah rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, the roof needed looking at," he said, and Ben smiled, letting the subject drop. Jonah could be shy about the strangest things, and he liked to seem like a fly-by-night but he loved their little family. Aggie worshipped him, following him everywhere and hanging on his every word. Her favorite treat when she'd been good, or more often, when Jonah felt indulgent, was to windwalk around the house, Dora watching from the door of the inn. 

"Maybe I'll come by with your lunch?" Ben said, and Jay's lips twitched into a smile.

"If it's not too much trouble," he said, slyly. Ben wanted to kiss him. 

"You're always trouble," Ben said, but he was smiling and his heart was full and the sky was clear.

&&&

All the women pitched in to clean up as the day wound down, and it seemed like a hurricane of Cornish women descended on the inn and left it cleaned than it had been the day before. Dora took Aggie up the stairs to sleep, and then it was just Jonah and Ben left in the public room. Ben poured them both a pint, and they leaned on the bar, standing close enough to feel each others' warmth, drinking. 

Jonah, for once, was quiet, and they drank together in the warm, tired silence, savouring the silence and the time together, the taste of beer and the knowledge they had each other and all the time. 

Eventually, they both finished and, not needing to speak, went to their room, the same bed they had shared every day since they'd come to Cornwall. Jonah undressed first, and sat on the bed, watching Ben with his warm eyes. 

"Do you wish we could?" Jonah said, his voice quiet and gentle. "Like Bethany and Aaron."

Ben paused with his shirt over his head, and then pulled it all the way off, his trousers still on. Jonah was so confident and determined it was sometimes easy to forget the ways in which he was sweet, his soft hidden underbelly.

He stepped close to him, and used his fingers to brush through the jagged white stripe. 

"Why?" He said gently. "I'm yours in every way I can imagine. My Jay, my bucca."

Jonah's face crumpled up with emotion. 

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, and then the sweet, treacle-like tension broke and they crashed into one another, kissing hard and desperate. 

Jonah was naked, and Ben let his hands roam, touching him everywhere, the hair of his chest, the warmth of his cock, only halfway hard. Both of them breathed into the kiss wetly, catching their breath while Jonah opened Ben’s trousers and pushed them down, until they were both naked and Ben was on top of Jonah in the bed, their bodies pressed against each other. 

“Can I fuck you?” Jonah said, his voice warm and full. Ben nodded. 

“Yes Jay, yes,” he said, and rolled over so Jonah was over him. They never worried about the noise anymore. The big thick walls kept them safe. Ben let himself make noise when Jonah touched him, when Jonah’s long fingers pushed inside him, slick and perfect. 

“Ben,” Jonah said, not quite a question, when he has three fingers in his, and Ben was gasping, groaning for more. 

“Yes, yes,” Ben said again. He had no other words, only yes, for Jonah now.  
Jonah slid his fingers out, a moment of near-painful emptiness, and then he filled Ben up to the brim with the thickness and length of his cock. They both groaned, and Jonah grabbed hard at Ben’s thighs, his knuckles white with the force. 

“Ben, can I move?” he asked, choked off. Ben nodded quickly, and then grabbed at Jonah’s hand on him as Jonah thrust into him, hard enough their skin slapped together. 

"God, Ben, God," Jonah said, breathing hard, driving into him steadily. Every thrust felt like it slid through him, pleasure lighting up within every part of his body. He could feel Jonah in his fingertips, his chest, and most, inside him, building and building. "Oh I love you," Jonah said, and Ben arched, feeling the thrust bringing him closer.

"Yes, Jay, I love you," Ben said, and felt the heat of it, the love and sex and pleasure, build to a point and he came, his thighs shaking in Jonah's hold. Jonah cried out, seemingly overcome, and Ben felt his orgasm move through their joined bodies in a great shaking rush. 

They collapsed into each other, now damp with sweat and breathing hard. Slowly, they separated and cleaned up and crawled into bed to hold each other, kissing softly. 

Ben kissed the crown of Jonah's head.

"Do you wish we could?" Ben asked. "A wedding?"

They was a pause while Jonah breathed and eventually he shook his head.

"It's like you said," he said. "Every way that matters." 

Ben kissed him again, and they fell asleep like that, in each other's arms. 

&&&

The next day was hot again, a false summer in Spring, warm and bright. They were both not used to waking early, safe from the sun in their dark room, but they struggled awake when Aggie ran through the hall in the morning, somehow managing to be loud without any help. 

Ben mumbled awake, trying to shake the last dregs of sleep, but Jonah was already slipping from his arms, the bed a little cold without him. He kissed his cheek. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said quietly, and Ben, still half-asleep, reached out for him. 

“Jay,” he slurred, and he heard Jonah laugh, and then the sound of the door closing. Ben drifted, half-awake and half-asleep for what must of been half an hour, before he finally managed to pull himself out of bed. By the time he was dressed and eating some of Dora’s bread in the inn’s public room, the sun was fully up, coming in cloudy through the mottled windows of the inn. Like every day, he had a mental list of the work that needed doing, what could be done alone, what he’d need Dora or Jonah’s help to finish, what could wait and what needed to be done tomorrow, the day after, by the end of the week. Some of the barrels were empty, and the delivery came from Looe today. He needed to move out the empties, and make space in the cellar for the new barrels. There was plenty of furniture to fix, and Dora would need another pair of hands in the kitchen with Bethany gone. 

He liked this uncertain rhythm of his days, each day a list of work he chose. He’d been proud of being a policeman, because it was honourable and decent and there were many worse trades, but it had always involved following orders, doing as he was told. The only person who tried to give him orders now was Dora, and he liked listening to her. 

It was hard work, rolling out the empty barrels to the front of the inn, and he soon sweat through his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

It was still early in the day when the cart from Looe rolled down the track, completely unhurried. Ben had learned that not much in Cornwall was ever hurried. Things happened in their own time, including deliveries. 

“Hello Gryff,” Ben sad, one hand on his hip, when the cart rolled within speaking distance. Gryff tipped his hat. 

“Wasson?” Gryff said peaceably. He wasn’t much of a talker, and he still called Ben ‘incomer’, but the beer was always good, and he didn’t mind the long journey out to them. They had come to an agreement. 

“Alright, alright,” Ben said. “Would you like a pint before we get to work?”

Gryff nodded. 

“Good lad,” he said, and climbed down from the cart. In the inn's cool public room, Ben poured him a pint and let him hold up the bar for a little while, recounting a heavily-accented story about smugglers. Ben didn’t have Jonah’s charm, but he could nod and make noise at appropriate moments, until Gryff was smacking his lips and looking hopeful about a second pint. 

“Well, nothing for it,” Ben said, smacking his hands together. “Work won’t do itself.”

Gryff nodded. 

“Fair play,” he said, in his lilting accent, and they both went to heave the full barrells down from the cart, and roll them into the inn. The opposite way, rolling the empty barrels out, was easier work, but by the time they were finished they were both sweating and it was near mid-day, the sun hot and warm. Dora came out when the job was finished, and Gryff took off his hat. 

“Alright Dora?” he said, and she smiled at him thinly. 

“Alright,” she said, but she had a thick slice of pie wrapped in brown paper, and he took it gladly. For Ben she had a full lunch pail, and a bottle of beer decanted from the bar. 

“Why don’t you take this down to our Jonah,” Dora said, and Ben flushed a little. Dora never asked questions, and everyone in the village seemed unbothered by Jonah’s constant presence in Ben’s life, but to them he was a bucca, another magic being. Dora knew Jonah as a man, flighty and silly, but still human. 

“Thanks,” he said, taking the pail and bottle. Gryff climbed up into the cart, lighter now the barrels were empty and nodded at them both. 

“See you by and by,” he said gruffly, and whistled up the horse to move. They both gave him a wave when he rounded the corner at the end of the road, and Dora went back into the inn, with just a look to Ben, before he began his walk into the village. It was hot, but there was a breeze coming in off the ocean, and the view was worth it in many ways, the silvery ocean spread out from the bay, the shrill call of gulls cutting through the air. 

The Tomkins lived in an old house at the end of a row of fisherhouses, the slate a little patchy. Even from the other end of the row, Ben could see Jonah as a thin shape on the roof, moving with a supernatural confidence. Children had gathered around the bottom of the house, watching him silently with big eyes, waiting for him to do something fantastical. Ben smiled to himself, swinging the heavy pail of food. They were about to get a treat. 

Jonah saw him a few moments later, a large piece of slate in one hand, and his smile dawned across his face like blinding sunlight. 

“Ho there my lover,” he called down from the roof, in his new favorite joke, a passable Cornish accent. Ben flushed, but laughed. Jonah’s accent was getting better with every week. 

“You’re mad,” Ben said, and grinned up at him. “Dora sent me with some food. Do you want to come down?”

Jonah turned himself so he was towards the sun, like a cat sunning itself. 

“Why don’t I bring you up? It’s nice up here!”

"Are you sure?' Ben said. "You can't spill the food."

Jonah nearly looked offended.

"I won't spill," he said. "C'mon, hurry up here I'm hungry."

"Oh, you're hungry," Ben grumbled to himself, but he took the first tentative step up, as if he was climbing an invisible set of stairs and then didn't let himself waver, or look down, until he was level with the roof. Jonah reached out to him quickly, and he stepped onto the slating of the roof, no more disturbing then stepping onto the train. 

Ben sat, higher up on the slope of the roof, and started to unpack the pail, the bottle of beer tucked between his legs so it wouldn't roll away. There were small fish, fried in oil and flour, and a thick double slice of Dora's pie, and bread and a square piece of cheese, and then, the final treat, a weighty piece of hevva cake left over from the wedding. It was a veritable feast of options for a mid-day meal.

"Dora doesn't half spoil us does she," Jonah said, sitting down next to him. Ben has already taken a hearty bite of the bread and cheese, and hummed in response. The beer barrels had been hard work, and he hadn't eaten since the morning. 

The Tomkins' roof did not slope steeply, so it was almost pleasant, on the warm slate, to sit and look out on the glittering sea, the sounds of the village rising up from around them. He could see why Jonah hadn't wanted to come down. 

They ate silently and steadily for a while, watching the boats come in and out, and passing the bottle of beer back and forth between them. 

"I've nearly finished," Jonah said, when they were finally just sharing the crumbs and dregs, both licking their fingers. "It wasn't as bad as Tomkin thought, I only had to patch a few holes, and most of the slate was still good." 

"No more leaks?" Ben said, and Jonah nodded. 

"No more leaks," he said, and while they sat there, looking out at the ocean, neither wanting to move, Jonah's fingertips touched up against his. They weren't holding hands, because they could still be seen from below, but Ben could feel the gentle pressure of Jonah's fingers touching him, and it was a beautiful day.


End file.
